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George Herbert Clarke, ed. (1873–1953). A Treasury of War Poetry. 1917.

Robert Ernest Vernède

To our Fallen

YE sleepers, who will sing you?

We can but give our tears—

Ye dead men, who shall bring you

Fame in the coming years?

Brave souls … but who remembers

The flame that fired your embers? …

Deep, deep the sleep that holds you

Who one time had no peers.

Yet maybe Fame’s but seeming

And praise you’d set aside,

Content to go on dreaming,

Yea, happy to have died

If of all things you prayed for—

All things your valour paid for—

One prayer is not forgotten,

One purchase not denied.

But God grants your dear England

A strength that shall not cease

Till she have won for all the Earth

From ruthless men release,

And made supreme upon her

Mercy and Truth and Honour—

Is this the thing you died for?

Oh, Brothers, sleep in peace!